Why did I choose you?
by the lurker
Summary: The hard slap surprised him.  The second one more so, and as she came in for a third, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.  Their fiery eyes held each other for a long moment, until he gently let go of her wrist and she lowered her arm...


"Why did I choose you?"

Ruth sat motionlessly at her desk, still stunned that some lunatic had almost been successful in detonating several hundred pounds of C4 at the BA terminal in Heathrow. Several hundred pounds was enough to leave a hole in the ground where the airport used to be. She closed her eyes and tried to still her shaking hands as she let out a slow breath. It was no way to spend the first day of a new year. No way at all.

She was slightly surprised that she was shaking from such a close call; it was not as if she hadn't faced many close calls before, and some of them had been far closer and more personal than this one. But still, she could not quiet her nerves. If it hadn't been for Harry's calm no-nonsense handling of yet another crisis, several hundred people might have been killed. She smirked at the irony of it all: the very man that Whitehall was contemplating dismissing from his post. The very man she had been so angry with for so very long. The very man who had proven his willingness to give up his own life to save hers; the same man she could not eradicate from her thoughts.

She opened her eyes just in time to catch him staring at her through the glass of his office, and she managed a glare for his benefit, receiving the desired effect – Harry looked quickly away. The regret that flooded her chest was as immediate. She shook her head at herself. Was she hell-bent on torturing him for George and Nico, or for the selfishness that Harry had displayed in giving away Albany just to save her? If she were being honest with herself, she knew that it was really neither of those things, for she had been torturing him since the very day she told him that she wouldn't go on a second date with him; from the day she left him standing there on the dock in the freezing cold; from the day she said no to him in the churchyard.

If she were being honest with herself, she would have to voice out loud the resentment she felt toward him. Resentment that he could make her love him with all of her heart and soul; resentment that with just a look he could instill in her a feeling of warmth, safety and such unconditional love that it made her want to wither into a ball and die rather than face the fear that froze her heart in its unwillingness to risk being destroyed by the inevitable conclusion that could only come from loving a man like Harry. Ruth knew in her soul that if she ever gave into him, something would happen to destroy it, as it had every time in her life that she took a chance on love. She would say yes to him, and then he'd either leave her for someone else, or worse, be killed in the line of duty trying to save yet more unwitting people they did not know and would never meet.

Unable to take the stifling air of the Grid, Ruth grabbed her coat and headed toward the roof. She stood in the bitter wind and cold as the sun began to set under the cover of clouds, and she willed that the tears threatening to rain down stay hidden well under the surface of her unwilling heart. Her mind wandered back through the past ten years of her life, and everywhere she looked, he was there. And at almost every opportunity, she had stomped on his heart with some kind of rejection or unvoiced truth. The man had tried twice to show her his love and each time she had not allowed him that moment.

She swallowed hard as the well-schooled and familiar emotions tried to bubble up to the surface. She shook her head again at herself. Why had she done it all these years? Where was the logic in denying the truth even to herself? And there was only the same answer: she was afraid, and she had allowed the fear to destroy not only her life, but his as well. How many times had she been cruel to him when he tried to comfort her or say a kind word? And then the moment he would try and distance himself from her after so many rejections, she would pull him back in with a small smile, a light touch, or a late night call, just like a cat pulling at the tail of a mouse. The cruelty of it was only now becoming terribly clear, and Ruth could no longer keep the tears from falling.

The guilt she felt from constantly pushing him away only to try and pull him back was overwhelming. And even after all of it, the poor man's true heart shone brilliantly through all the hurt and despair when he traded Albany away to get her back, only to have her tell him that he had no right to do so. She sobbed with the realization that instead of at least thanking him for throwing his life away to save hers, she had heaped accusations of selfishness and shame upon him for loving her and for not being willing to let her have a turn with death. God the things she had said to him. And at the center of the matter was yet another truth for her to face: she simply did not believe that she deserved Harry's undying love. And undying it was, even she could not deny that.

And how she loved him for it.

But how confusing it was… Why did she choose him? He had nothing to offer her in the conventional sense – she was right about that; there could be no normalcy of a house in Sussex. What had she seen in a divorced man 17 years her senior? A man who was capable of untold violence and cunning? A small smile turned her lips. She had seen a man who kept his golden heart so well hidden behind a schooled cold efficiency; she had seen beneath the legend that he displayed to the world, and uncovered a quiet man with a gentle way. And she lost her heart to him so many years ago. She had to admit, she lost it willingly and lovingly. He offered her an unconditional love that would last a lifetime through, if only she'd let him.

And if she had to choose again, she would still choose him.

It was _that_ truth that was her undoing. Ruth couldn't stop the sobs from coming one after another. There was no other man for her, and she knew it. Poor George, who had been such a kind and honest man, a simple man: he had never stood a chance to capture her heart; yet still he had loved her openly and sincerely. He hadn't deserved to die, and Nico surely didn't deserve to grow up without his father. What a mess she'd made of it all. No one had benefited from the choices Ruth had made. Except for the one unvoiced choice. The choice she had never allowed herself to acknowledge. The choice she had denied all along; the one choice that could have meant happiness.

His soft resonant voice from behind her, made her start. "Ruth?" She did not turn to face him. "What are you doing up here? You'll catch your death you know…"

"Or my life," she muttered.

"What?" His voice was filled with confusion.

She turned abruptly to face him and he could see the tears flowing freely, and his heart pounded with fear.

"What is it Ruth? What's wrong?"

She shook her head as she brushed the hand instinctively reaching for her away. "Nothing and everything, Harry." He frowned at her, but waited for her to continue, which eventually she did. "I've lost everything and nothing because I was so afraid to act truthfully upon a choice I made so long ago."

His frowned deepened. "Ruth, I don't understand…"

"I know, Harry. I know you don't." She looked into the hazel eyes that she knew so well. "You don't understand because I've never given you the chance to – and for that I am sorry. You didn't tell me the truth about Albany." His eyes flicked up to hers and she knew that she had guessed correctly. "It wasn't real, was it…" It was a statement of fact, not a question. He sighed and looked away, all the confirmation she needed. "But they're going to make an example of you anyway, I suppose…"

"Yes, I suppose." He looked out at the city as night began to fall and the lights sparkled in the cold. "I'll be lucky if they don't lock me up. Needless to say, I won't be staying here." His eyes turned back to her then, and he saw them tear up once more. "It's nothing to cry over, Ruth," his voice reflected the deep hurt he had been trying to hide for so long, "perhaps your next boss will be more to your liking."

The hard slap surprised him. The second one more so, and as she came in for a third, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Their fiery eyes held each other for a long moment, until he gently let go of her wrist and she lowered her arm.

"That was unfair, Harry," she said, her voice filled with the venom of passion.

He nodded, looking away. "Yes, you're right, it was." He sighed deeply. "I'm afraid that I'm tired, Ruth. Tired of pretending that your rebuffs don't hurt; tired of pretending that you didn't destroy me over the years, not ever fully closing the door to me, but never opening it either; I'm tired of loving you."

An involuntary sharp intake of air was Ruth's only visible reaction. She would have preferred that he stab her with a knife than to hear those words uttered by the voice she so long knew and loved.

"Well," she finally whispered, "I guess that about says it all."

He nodded, "Yes, I guess it does." He straightened his back and looked at her squarely. "I'm sure I'll be gone one way or another by Monday, Ruth, so…"

"This is good-bye then?"

"Yes, I believe it is. There's nothing really left to be said between us that we haven't already exacted from each other piece by nasty little piece." He forced himself to look deeply into her eyes. "Good-bye, Ruth. I do wish you happiness in your life… and just for the record, I have always wished that for you. My only regret is that I wasn't the man to make you happy."

He turned to go, and Ruth's voice stopped him, although he did not turn back around to face her.

"There will never be happiness for me, Harry." She took a deep breath as she saw his back stiffen with the tension of stillness, hanging on her words. It was now or never. "Not without you." Her voice began to quiver slightly, but she forged on, "I lost my heart, you see. I lost it a long time ago, Harry. To you." She saw his posture droop and his arms cross over his chest, a hand covering his forehead, but he still did not turn to face her. "And if I had to choose again, Harry, I would still choose you. Even now, after all we've been through. God strike me down for saying it, but I never loved anyone else, not even George. I've never been able to shake you. I tried, but the truth is, it's you I've chosen over and over again."

He remained still, facing away from her. And then she realized why. She walked slowly over to him, stopping right behind him, to confirm what she already knew by his shaking shoulders. She grabbed him by the arm and turned him round, although he wouldn't look at her.

"Harry…"

"It's fine, Ruth," he whispered, his voice shaky and low, "I'm fine. It's just the wind."

"Of course, Harry," she said softly, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his arm. "Of course."

He let out a shaky breath of air and finally looked at her, his eyes still wet with tears. "Fancy a drink, Ruth?"

"Yes Harry, as a matter of fact, I do. I think we could both use one."

"It's bloody cold up here," he said matter-of-factly as they walked slowly toward the roof access door.

She stopped him as he reached for the door with a hand on his hand. "What's going to happen now, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Ruth. But whatever it is, I can face it if I know you're here with me."

She nodded and smiled at him. "Even when I was in Cyprus, I was still here with you, Harry."

The lump in his throat kept him from saying anything else, so instead he gently took her hand in his and together they left the roof, knowing that nothing could stop Monday from arriving. But Harry Pearce no longer cared about Monday, nor about what would happen to him. Just to hear her give voice to what he had known was in her heart all of these years had been worth it all. A small smile tugged at his full lips.

"_If I had to choose again, I would still choose you."_

And so would he.

###

Why did I choose you?

What did I see in you?

I saw the heart you hide so well

I saw a quiet man who had a gentle way

A way that caught me in its glowing spell

Why did I want you?

What could you offer me?

A love to last a lifetime through

And when I lost my heart so many years ago,

I lost it lovingly and willingly to you…

If I had to choose again,

I would still choose you…

And when I lost my heart so many years ago,

I lost it lovingly and willingly to you…

If I had to choose again,

I would still choose you.

Written by M. Leonard & H. Martin

Sung by Katie Eagleson (abmp3 dot com/download/3234729-why-did-i-choose-you dot html)

Or you can hear Babs' version (youtube dot com/watch?v=NWwRb2A9idY)


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